


kingdom come undone

by Witcherology



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, F/M, post s8e03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witcherology/pseuds/Witcherology
Summary: The Night Queen's reaction to the death of her king.
Relationships: Corpse Queen/Night's King (ASoIaF)
Kudos: 11





	kingdom come undone

**Author's Note:**

> i know i have other WIPs, but i promise they haven't been abandoned. it's just been rough with covid and all. hope you all understand.
> 
> second, since the NQ/Corpse Bride doesn't exist in the got!verse, this can also be interpreted as an asoiaf story.
> 
> the title is from a taylor swift song, "hoax" from her new album folklore which i highly recommend!

She knew the exact moment it happened.

The place where her heart once was pierced her, as sharp and hot as a needle, and for the first time in thousands of years she felt almost warm, almost alive, almost a woman again. She  _ felt _ .

Her husband was gone.

All around her the remainders of their army, those who’d stayed behind at her command, crumbled and fell like snow and vanished into the ice. She was alone.

But she was long past tears, or pain, or mourning. Her eyes blinked back the frost and snowflakes that had gathered on her eyelashes, her tongue darted out to nip at the ice on the lips that had once touched his. She wondered how long it had been since then. Seven hundred years? Seven thousand? A hundred thousand?

An eternity. Longer than many lifetimes, just like she’d promised him. On that count, at least, they hadn’t failed.

On the other… it was up to her now that her king was dead.

And she would not hold back.

* * *

For she remembered everything they’d done to her.

Before the night and the cold, she’d been a woman, and before that a girl. She’d lived and grown tall and proud in a castle, yet its walls never felt safe to her. For she’d always hidden a part of herself deep inside, a secret as dark as a moonless night.

Then her family fell into ruin, as did the castle, and the walls became thinner than ever. Her existence crumbled and she had to take her secret outside the box she’d hidden it in, put it to use. She had no choice.

_ Witch _ , they soon began to call her. Enchantress, sorceress, necromancer, abomination, she-devil, she heard all the words they had for it over the years. But she swore to herself one day they would no longer say it to her face.

And so they did. She rose, rose high in power and in fame, grew rich and strong and fierce, and soon no one could stop her. No one would dare.

They wanted her to be a witch, a fearful thing born out of nightmares. So that’s what she gave them. First she took the man that protected them all and made him hers, then together they took the Night’s Watch, and finally they made themselves their King and Queen.

_ Who will protect you now _ , she remembered thinking.  _ You live or die by my command. _

They wanted her to be the stuff of nightmares, so she gave them their nightmares, dark stuff of which the singers and old crones would sing of and scare children with for millennia. And so she became a living nightmare herself.

Her pretty gowns gave way to armor, her skin to the hardest ice, her eyes to all-seeing blue stars. The cold winds blew with every rustle of her skirts, and with every step the dead arose. Everything she touched withered and died and lived for her.

* * *

The Heart of Winter was dead, but it still beat. Inside was a land with no walls, only snow and ice, and yet here she was at the height of her power. He had left to wage their war, and now he has gone.

What more would they take from her?

She could not recall her family’s faces or her home or even her own name, it was true, but she knew that it was all gone because of  _ them _ . And now her King too. Her armies. Everything.

She surveyed her kingdom of one, the black sky where no stars shone and the deep blue lands where the eyes of thousands of her children had burned before. If she’d cared to scream, she would have. Gone, gone, gone. Everything she had built, gone into the night.

It made no matter. She was the Queen of the Night, the Walking Nightmare, the Corpse Bride. They always thought it was over, and they were always mistaken.

  
She could no longer feel, it was true, but she remembered, and she  _ hated _ .

**Author's Note:**

> pls like & comment if you made it this far! it makes my day :3


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